the window
by Strawberry luv
Summary: I sit here everyday in front of this small stained dusty window. I watch, I watch him flutter about in all his freedom this isn't right. How come I am not free as well?


_**I have 4 little siblings, I write stories for them. This story is for my little sister Kira, a story about her free realms character Noelle Chillspire.**_

The Window

"Noelle!" My father's deep voice sounded throughout the old wooden house. I looked up from my reading slowly closing my book, gently placing it on the window seat before turning and walking into the kitchen. I saw my father a proud and tall man; he is not scrawny and short like most he is tall, strongly built, fit. Despite my father's tough fighter appearance, he is very kind. His raven black hair was short and ruffled, showing he had just woken; he sat at the table reading the news. His outfit consists of the usual business suit.

My father, Hark Chillspire, is a well known business man he is quite popular (he used to be world known) and is always at work he leaves around 6:30 AM for work and returns around 7:30 PM. My father no longer goes on business trips; this has put his business down some sadly. I am the reason for this. He used to travel a lot I remember the wonderful souvenir's he would bring back from his travels. I have the ones he gave me hidden in a box under my bed.

_**(If you do not want to read a pointless monolog than skip this)**_

When I was just 5 years of age my family lived in Lakeshore. The house was rather large and white with a huge yard. My mother, Sophie Chillspire, planted many flowers gardens and I used to always help her when she was in the garden. There was even a swing in the back yard that she would push me in. It was perfect then I would go for walks with my family by the lake.

My mother was very gentle she had pale blue watery hair that matched the lake; she was short with pale purple eyes. That is all I can remember of my mother, for during my fifth year of life my father had just returned from one of his trips and we were celebrating. We had just finished dinner and were eating some cake that my mother had made for my father's arrival. I was laughing at my fathers joke with my mom when a loud pounding on the door interrupted our meal. My father and mother went to get the door. My mother returned swiftly "Time for bed Noelle!" she gently told me lifting me out of my chair and wiping my face. "But I wasn't done yet." I protested pouting. She laughed weakly "You can finish Tomorrow" was her reply. She promptly carried me upstairs and readied me for bed she kissed me and then left.

I was a very curious child and the loud voices coming from downstairs made me desperate as to what they were talking about. So leaving my bed I crept silently to my dooe. Pushing it open slowly allowing a small stream of light to pierce the darkness of my room. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the light. Getting down on my hands and knees I crawled to the corner of the stairs peering cautiously around it I found my mother and father were talking to a man whose face was hidden in a shadow, so I could not identify him, but he wore a black business suit. They talked on I only caught bits and pieces of the conversation for this continued for a long time and being a child I was very not used to staying awake so long. As I was struggling to keep my head up and eyes open I noticed my parents and the man were no longer in the room! This awakened me I scanned the room hoping they wouldn't find me. I spotted my parents as they reentered the room. I shot up and scrambled up the stairs and dove into my bed.

Later that night when everyone was asleep I woke up it was late I turned droopily and looked at my clock it read 2:28. I sat up and looked about my room I didn't normally wake up randomly. I took a deep breath in and then froze; sniffing the air again to make sure I was correct I noticed I smelled smoke. I rose shakily to my feet, my silky pink sheets falling back onto my bed. I smelled the air again the pungent scent of smoke filled my lungs and sent me into a coughing fit. I could see a flickering light coming from the other side of my door. I sighed with relief my mother had lit a candle and was going down to check her garden; this was not unusual for her during this time of year. I smiled and leapt out of bed racing for the door I swung it open and raced out.

I shrieked and fell back a wall of fire was surrounding my room or so it seemed. The air was thick with smoke and I coughed harshly as I tried to stand again. I saw my parents' door swing open with a loud BANG as it collided with the wall. My mother and father stood there hair a mess in their pajamas with looks of horror on there faces. "NOELLE!" My mother shrieked large tears rolling down her face. She tried to run to me, across the flames that were now filling the upstairs, but my father held her back. "NOELLE GO TO YOUR WINDOW AND CLIMB DOWN THEN GO TO THE LAKE AND WAIT FOR US THERE!" My father called out his voice thick with concern snapped me out of the trance I was in. I spun on of my heel and gladly raced away from the flames into the safety of my room. I slammed my door shut and ran to my window using all my strength I shoved it open.

I froze and turned back to look at my room, I didn't want to lose all my stuff I didn't want to lose my parents. Disregarding my window I raced back to my closet swinging the door open I reached up and grabbed a white wooden box. With the box in hand I raced back to my window climbing out of it and peering down at the ground far below I gulped nervously throwing my box it collided with the ground but did not shatter or open. I grabbed the now heating up window and slowly draped my legs down so now I held on with my hands and reluctantly dropped.

I hit the ground hard, and if that wasn't enough I started rolling down hill a bit. I had to stand onto my aching feet and scramble painfully up the hill grab my box and run. I didn't look back I made sure I didn't for I knew if I did I would stop and probably die. After I reached the lake I ran on one of the platforms and hid behind a tree.

All that I remember after is a wall collapsing, neighbors running out, one picking me up, people with buckets, people running in and then nothing. Last I remember is waking up in my fathers arms.

My father's face was dimly illuminated by the little rays of sun that shown in from the window casting shadows across the floor. As I entered my father looked up a warm smile crossing his face. "I thought you were up" he stated kindly. I grabbed the coffee pot and poured him some more coffee. Then going to the counter I removed a plate that had eggs, toast and bacon on it and placed it before him. "Noelle what am I going to do with you. Every time I get up I find you already awake ready and have already made breakfast." He chuckled and I smiled. "Well I just wanted to tell you I have to leave early today so I will be heading off soon." He stated eagerly cutting his egg. I went over to the fridge and poured my self a glass of orange juice before heading back to the window seat and picking up my book. No sooner had I gotten to the next chapter did my father walk passed me waving goodbye a piece of toast in his mouth his briefcase in his left hand keys in his right a newspaper tucked under his left arm and his coat tucked under his right. I waved him off and watched him exit through the back door and walk swiftly away from the house. I closed my book swiftly sending a stream of air shooting up at my face but I didn't mind.

I am Noelle Chillspire if you didn't already guess. I look more like my father than my mother at first glance my hair is a raven color only lighter more like a blueberry blue with tints of black. My hair is styled kind of like a bob with two strands sticking out more being longer than the rest they went to my shoulders where the rest of my hair went to a bit below my ears. My eyes are a mixture of my mothers' and fathers' a deep purple (my mother's pale purple my fathers deep indigo). I am born short like my mother and I am naturally very thin. Not the 'you're so lucky you're naturally thin' kind the twig thin kind that is just abnormal. Unlike my father and mother my skin is deathly pale almost white.

I rose to my feet once again caring my glass to the kitchen to take of dishes. As I entered the kitchen a breeze floated lightly through the room probably from an open window upstairs. Today I wore a red tank top that had swirls of different shades of red as the pattern, and blue jean shorts with pockets, I never where shoes. It's warm out a lot here since the fire my dad and I live here in Cross roads. Truth be most people don't believe anyone lives in this house the windows on the top floor is boarded up the front door is boarded up too. My father arranged it to be kept this way no one knows we live here not even dad's clients. I am pale because I haven't been outside now for around almost 10 years. My father keeps me inside to protect me he states I listen to him though. My favorite spot in the house is the window seat in the living room which is more like an old fashioned parlor.

As I returned to my favorite spot another draft blew through the room rustling my wings. Yes, my wings, they hang limp down my back like that of a butterfly just out of the cocoon not even large they look like a whiteish grey wrinkled scarf. My mother was a fairy. I have never flown before I am used to walking plus I need sun to dry out my wings and I am always inside. I used to desire the sun the warmth the life outside now everything seems dull and plain as my wings.

The orange sun was making its way across the skyline and now light puffy clouds were floating past the sun casting shadows and bringing cool breezes. It was that time now, everyday at this time. I envy him I envy his freedom he taunts me I see him every day flying around as free as the wind. Clad in his deep blue uniform that complements his deep tan skin and ruffled brown hair his wings a pale blue shaped like that of the butterflies I see as they fly past the flower beds. I scowled unhappily my brow furrowing his taunting freedom was the one thing that either kept me sane or drove me crazy. Seeing another fairy like myself was refreshing but how he could roam around outside where as I had to watch him from my window. When it rains heavily, I sit safely inside and watch him, he fights the wind flying forward wrapped in a rain coat desperately holding his bag, never failing at his job. When it snows and gets cold, I sit wrapped in a blanket and watch, he is bundled up heavily and struggled to see he never fails to deliver.

I read many books it is all I can do to not go insane. My father tells me I am smart because of this and it is true. I know of society, medication, arts and long lost cultures. I taught myself the many languages of our world knowing they would probably be no use to me. Now as I watch him today, as he comes every morning and every evening, I begin to wonder if I am just going to live out my life inside this house. At times like these I wish to run away and hide for I didn't want to do something rash and get myself or someone else hurt. I find my self unavoidably curious about what happened the night of the fire intended to kill my family. I have come to the conclusion that my father moved to another house that would not as easily catch on fire to keep us safe. Then why so far away from our home in Lakeshore why not closer or why not just rebuild the house with stone or other non-flammable materials? This is what confused me.

Now as most know the teen years are the rebellious years, where you can't think straight or find answers. During my teens years (which I'm still in) I snuck into my father's room snooping through his drawers and closets. Eventually I found a strange file with a picture of me when I was little it was taken from the back. There was also a lot of strange writing it was not in English my native language. Thus, I took the file and hid it in my room under my bed. I have searched the books in our library and have found out the language is a very old language spoken by fairies only and is no longer used. So, I have been teaching myself the language so I can figure out why my father has a picture of my back and a file in a long since dead language in his dresser.


End file.
